


Falling Backwards

by imustspeakmyheart



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Juno's had therapy but things are hard sometimes, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustspeakmyheart/pseuds/imustspeakmyheart
Summary: Juno was standing in that doorway again, Nureyev sleeping peacefully in the bed he’d just left half empty. Something about the situation felt wrong; that again, that feeling of having done this all before. Well, for already having gone through all this his heart felt suspiciously close to breaking and Juno for one didn’t think any living human could be able to deal with the feeling that was tearing through his chest right now more than once.--Even after years of therapy and happy domesticity, Juno has a nightmare about leaving Peter in that hotelroom. Recovery never happens in a straight line after all.





	Falling Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Sleeping at Last's Pluto.

Juno was standing in that doorway again, Nureyev sleeping peacefully in the bed he’d just left half empty. Something about the situation felt wrong; that _again_ , that feeling of having done this all before. Well, for already having gone through all this his heart felt suspiciously close to breaking and Juno for one didn’t think any living human could be able to deal with the feeling that was tearing through his chest right now more than once.

One of his feet was already over the threshold, while the other lingered behind like a traitor. Juno had been compelled to look back, just a second, and wasn’t there an Earth myth about looking back before you’d crossed a threshold, the soul of your beloved being sucked right back into the underworld because of it? Only in their fucked up version of the tale it wasn’t Nureyev’s soul that was pulled down into a dark underground tunnel without any foreseeable means of escape, it was Juno’s. Though he guessed his soul had always been stuck in a dark pit, huh. Nothing new there. This was just a question of being pulled one rung further down in a life full of fuckups. Juno’s gaze was still on Nureyev even as his heart was crumbling to dust inside his chest.

He looked so… soft, like this. Asleep, just Peter Nureyev. Nothing added, subtracted, exaggerated or calculated. No disguise. Just him and that cologne that Juno could smell even from halfway out the door. It clung to his very being, it seemed, had seeped into Juno’s clothes as well as his skin and had nestled there just like Nureyev had nestled himself so inextricably into Juno’s life. But, like with all things that he ever grew to care about, there was going to be an end. It would be better if the end came sooner rather than later, when that end was still his choice. Juno kept telling himself that as he stared at Nureyev on the bed. _This is my decision and in the long run we’re all going to be better off for it_.

“Are you sure about that?” Someone whispered right into his ear from behind.

Juno whirled around to face where the voice had come from, stumbling back into the bedroom. He knew that voice. Nureyev was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with one shoulder, arms crossed and an expression on his face like a storm. This wasn’t how this moment was supposed to go. Juno was supposed to spend a few more moments feeling miserable and then he should have left to spend the rest of the night and the subsequent days miserable too. But Nureyev was there, not in the bed anymore as Juno soon found out, rapidly turning his head from the bed back to the doorway a few times.

“Speechless, detective?” Nureyev prompted, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people.” And his tone was playful, light even, but his eyes were hard and calculating as they were trained on Juno. Juno took a step further back, his thoughts racing to make sense of the situation.

“How are yo-,” He began, at the same time that Nureyev pushed away from the doorway and started to advance on him.

“Did you really think you were doing me a favour by leaving me in the dead of night, to wake up alone without a clue about where you went?” At every step that Nureyev took towards him, Juno stepped one back. He couldn’t look away from Nureyev’s eyes, thunderous in their intensity 

“I gave you my everything Juno, I gave you my name. And still, you left without a word. At least I had the decency to leave a note.” Juno gaped at Nureyev as the other man kept approaching, any words of rebuttal he could have thought of helplessly stuck in his throat.

“You think you know what’s best for people, Juno Steel. You think, ‘I’m doing this for them, I’m pushing them away because that’s better,’ when really you’re just doing it for yourself. Because you can’t stand the thought of them leaving later on, of them knowing you, all the dirty parts of yourself that rarely see the light of day. Can’t stand the thought of them knowing all that and then being the ones to leave you. Because that would mean that the reason they’re leaving is your own sorry broken self.”

Juno felt like he couldn’t breathe, every accusation thrown at him by Nureyev ringing true in his mind. He was selfish, self-centred. Scared. He didn’t need Nureyev to tell him that, he knew all too well himself. His back hit the windowsill on the far wall of the hotel room, Nureyev now crowding into his space with no way to get around him.

“You’ve ruined your one shot at happiness, Juno. All by yourself too, it’d almost be impressive if that wasn’t what you’ve been doing your whole life anyway.”

One of Nureyev’s hands was on his face, turning his head and directing his gaze back towards the hotel bed where another version of Nureyev was now sleeping again, just like there had been before.

“Do you know what the most fascinating thing about you is, Juno? How beautifully wrong you always are about things. ‘It’ll be better in the long run’, for whom exactly? Certainly not for you. But neither was it for him, was it?”

The Nureyev on the bed began to stir. Eventually he woke up, a smile on his face, reaching toward the empty side of the bed with his eyes still closed. He went still, feeling no one there with him. His eyes opened, eyebrows knit together. Juno saw Nureyev’s lips move to form his name, calling out a soft and questioning “Juno?”

“Juno must have gone to the bathroom, I thought to myself.” The voice of Nureyev whispered in Juno’s ear, just as the other Nureyev climbed out of bed, blearily put on his boxers and padded towards the little hotel bathroom. If Juno had any ideas about looking away, turning his head so he didn’t have to see what he knew came next, the hand holding his jaw made sure to direct his attention back to where it was wanted.

After a moment of quiet, Nureyev came back into the room and Juno could see him looking around, surveying the scene and finding none of Juno’s belongings anywhere in the room. Nureyev searched frantically in every nook and cranny, looking for something, _anything_ Juno might have left behind. It was painfully clear in his expression and movements that he was hurt, panicking even, as he tore through the room.  When the search proved fruitless, Juno watched as Nureyev’s expression schooled itself into one of practiced neutrality.

“Peter Nureyev is going on a little vacation it seems,” the Nureyev holding him whispered while Juno’s eye was still trained on the one standing in the middle of the room, who was now busy putting on clothes. There was no emotion on his face and that scared Juno more than anything. “Burying trauma under another persona always seems to do the trick quite nicely. You did that to me, Juno Steel”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I’m sorry.” The words burst out of him, hands reaching up to grip Nureyev’s shoulders. But he wasn’t there anymore holding Juno in place against the window.

There was just Juno back in the doorway, one foot across the threshold, looking back at the sleeping form on the bed. There were tears on his face somehow, even though Juno didn’t recall there having been tears the last time this happened.

And there’s this dissociation between two parts of him now; the part that’s yelling and screaming for him to not leave that doorway, to turn back and choose happiness this time is looking helplessly on as the other part turns away from Nureyev and leaves.

Juno woke up with a start, panic caught like a scream in his throat. Scrambling up, he sat down at the edge of his bed heaving out one rasping breath after another, clutching the back of his head with his hands as he pressed his forehead against his knees. Breathe, Juno. Breathe breathe breathe. He repeated the words to himself like a mantra, willing his racing thoughts to calm down so his body could follow suit. It’d been a dream. Just a dream. Granted, the worst of this particular kind of dream he’d had in months, but a dream nonetheless. He squeezed his eye shut, fighting  the instinct to double down on the things the dream made him feel and finding those feelings a nice little lockbox in one of the dark corners of his mind to then never think of them again. This was a habit he had been working on breaking. Juno, however, was having a hard time staying calm and breathing, let alone remembering the countless therapy sessions where he’d dealt with this problem. Juno let out a frustrated grunt, which only turned into another gasp for air.  

The bed creaked.  

“Juno?” A soft voice spoke from behind him, still slow with sleep. Juno felt the touch of fingertips on his bare back. The image of Peter reaching out to his side of the bed in the hotel room involuntarily flooded his mind. Juno flinched.

“Darling?” The voice came again, more alert this time, the fingers on his back no longer searching but purposeful. Slow circles were traced on his skin as the mattress dipped and he felt a leg pressed against his right one. The touch was grounding; Juno focused on it like clutching a lifeline.  

“Breathe slowly now, Juno. That’s it, in and out.” Peter moved his hand up and down Juno’s back at the same pace that he wanted Juno to breathe, giving him something that tethered him in the here and now. Peter is here, Juno reminded himself. Keep breathing, he’s here. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here.

“That’s right, I’m here. Right here, Juno.” Peter said, closer now, his breath ghosting over Juno’s shoulder. Juno realized he must have been muttering the words out loud. His breathing was also steady enough that Peter felt safe coming closer, no longer afraid of crowding too much into him and making his panic attack worse. They sat there for a few more minutes, Juno softly breathing to the guiding rhythm of Peter’s hand at his back while Peter whispered comfort into Juno’s skin. _I’m here, you’re safe, it was a dream, it’s okay, keep breathing._ Until finally Juno took a last deep breath and straightened his back, making Peter sit up too, though Peter’s touch remained at the small of his back. Juno rubbed his face with his hands and felt the wetness there. For a moment he just looked at his tear-stained hands, or more like their silhouette in the dimly lit room where morning light was just beginning to trickle in through the blinds.

When he finally looked to his right he saw Peter, looking at him with a hesitant smile even though his eyes betrayed his obvious concern. Juno tried to smile back, but then, he’d never been good at pretending in front of Peter.

Juno cleared his throat, wiping his hands on the bedsheets. Peter was clearly waiting for him to say something, to talk about the cause of his panic attack like they usually did, but Juno couldn’t find it in him to speak. He didn’t want his mind to wander back into the realm of that nightmare, didn’t want to relive it again by putting it to words.

“Juno?” He knew he’d slipped back into the downward spiral of his own thoughts when he felt a hand on his cheek, gently pulling him in to face Peter again. For a brief moment he saw the Peter of his dream, forcing him to watch the consequences of his greatest mistake. “Stay with me now. We can go back to sleep if you don’t feel like talking yet,” Juno shook his head at the mention of sleep, eye focused back on the Peter of the present, expression panicked, “or we get up and watch the sunrise. We might as well, now we’re awake. Whatever you want, my dear.”

It was so easy to slip back into old patterns of thinking when Juno was on edge like this; looking at Peter’s genuine, patient, beautiful face all Juno’s mind could provide him with was a litany of thoughts all saying the same thing: _Why did he come back for me when I did that to him?_ So easy to blame himself, even now, because when Peter _did_ manage to trick his insomniac brain into sleeping, Peter slept deeply. Still, his stupid panicking had woken him up. _Good job, Steel, now you’re robbing him of the precious little sleep he gets in a week._ It would have been better if Juno had been alone, suffering through this by himself like he’d always done. But then, wasn’t that line of thinking the exact cause of what had made Juno leave Peter in the first place.

“Juno, typically when two people are having a conversation, the other person is expected to answer back.” Peter’s tone was jovial, but Juno could see the way his eyes darted nervously over the features of Juno’s face. Juno wet his lips and swallowed thickly. 

“Sorry. I woke you up.” It was all he managed to say before averting his gaze. Peter’s hand left his face, that arm instead moving to wrap around Juno’s shoulder. His other hand reached to take hold of one of Juno’s, which had been fidgeting restlessly on his lap. Lacing their fingers together, Peter rubbed his thumb over Juno’s scarred skin.

“Don’t you worry about that, you know I’d rather be here for you than be doing something trite like sleeping.”

“You don’t need me ruining your already shitty sleep schedule. I’ve ruined enough as it is.” Juno bowed his head, took a breath and began to speak again before Peter could offer his protestations.

“I-“ He felt Peter squeeze his hand encouragingly. “Nureyev, the nightmare was about something I thought I’d dealt with. And I hate that it’s coming back to affect you.”

Juno always called him Peter when they were alone together, only slipping back into the use of Nureyev when he was particularly stuck in the past. Juno could practically hear everything click in Peter’s head.

“Oh Juno,” Peter turned his body to fully face Juno, pulling him in with his arms, Juno’s head cradled into his shoulder, “you know I’ve forgiven you for that night a hundred times over, no, a thousand. A million.” Juno circled his arms around Peter and pressed his forehead into him. Two warring parts of him desperately needed the words, while simultaneously feeling like he didn’t deserve them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He mumbled against Peter’s collarbone. He felt fingers playing with the curls at his nape and soft lips pressing against his crown.

“It’s been years, darling. I’m here, you’re here, Hyperion city is waking from another crime-filled night, no doubt. Nothing’s changed there and nothing will, because I’ll continue to be here, with you, in your rancid little apartment on Mars until we’re physically kicked off of the planet.” Juno breathes out a laugh and feels Peter smile against his forehead. “Which isn’t such a stretch of thought, considering your line of work.”

“My work, huh? Says the master thief.” Juno grumbled affectionately, nosing Peter’s exposed skin. It was magical really, how good this man was at distracting Juno from himself.

“Your personality then?”

At this, Juno extracted himself from their embrace to raise an eyebrow at Peter, his expression the very picture of being indignant. Peter considered it a personal triumph that he’d managed to stop Juno from apologizing.

“Don’t look at me like that, Juno. You know I wouldn’t trade you for the world. However, many Hyperion criminal organizations seem to have a different opinion, can’t imagine why.”

Peter looked at Juno, warm affection mingling with the worry he still felt for this detective of his. Reaching up to cradle his face, he pulled Juno in for a kiss. The feeling of Juno’s smile growing slowly against Peter’s lips was enough for now.

…

Later that day, Juno was looking out the window, up at the dome of Hyperion City, when he heard Peter come up behind him. They’d spent the day lounging around the apartment, neither of them wanting to really leave the other alone for too long. Peter had made Juno promise that they would talk about the dream and the panic attack it’d caused when he was ready for it, not wanting to push it too much but also knowing Juno Steel too damn well.

“Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about now?”

“You know what it was about,” Peter was about to protest, but Juno shook his head with a smile. “You’re here. I’m here. It was 6 years ago. Life is as good as it’ll get.” _Because of you_ , implied Juno’s hands finding Peter’s jaw, pulling him gently down into a kiss. Juno was sure Peter understood.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is marked as unfinished because I plan to write one more chapter about Nureyev having a nightmare, so stay tuned for that eventually!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at imustspeakmyheart, I'm relatively new to the Penumbra fandom so if you liked this fic pls come talk to me if you want to??
> 
> Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed, leave me a comment and some kudos if you did, it'd mean a lot <3


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